Crashed (Entangled Indulgence)(55)

He tipped his hat and smiled. “Morning, miss.”

Blood was pounding through her veins, and her knees felt weak and shaky as she crossed the floor. This was a huge risk. God, what if she was wrong? What if he didn’t feel the same way she did? She shook her head, fought the self-doubt back. Deke had changed over the years. No, he wasn’t the same boy she’d first fallen for. He was a man. The type of man who went after what he wanted ruthlessly. He didn’t let anyone get in his way. Well, she could learn a thing or two from him in that respect.

And despite it all, despite the suits, the flashy cars, and the expensive apartment, he was still her Deke. He was still in there. He’d shown himself time and again over the last couple weeks. That tender, caring, protective side was still in there under the hard exterior, and she had to believe he couldn’t do what they were doing and not feel something for her other than lust.

The elevator door opened, and a guy strode out. It was the same guy from the first night she’d been here, the night she’d bolted from Deacon’s apartment as soon as he’d fallen asleep. Sitting in the foyer, barefoot and more than likely looking like a woman who’d recently been screwing her brains out.

Averting her gaze, she tried to slip past, but he touched her arm. “Hey, I know you, right? You were here a couple weeks ago? I remember the ink.” His gaze darted to her arm, to the rose tattoo poking out from under her sleeve.

She tensed. “And?”

“And you were hard to miss.” The guy moved in close, and she had no choice but to take a step back or he’d be all up in her personal space. “I was hoping I’d see you again. Can I have a word?”

“Nope. I have somewhere to be.” She went to move past again, but he took the drinks from her hands and placed them on the unmanned reception desk near the elevator. “What the hell?”

He straightened his tie and gave her a lopsided grin. “I think you might be interested in what I have to say. I’ve been looking for someone in your line of business, actually, but haven’t found the right fit, so to speak. I think you and I might get on just fine.”

Unease turned to relief, then excitement. Deacon must have told him about West Restoration, which meant he obviously knew the guy. She shrugged off the way her creep-o-meter was wailing and joined him by the reception desk. “Look, I know the competition in this city is fierce, but I promise you won’t be disappointed. I’ve never had a dissatisfied customer. In fact, they always come back.” She was no Rusty when it came to this stuff—that woman had the gift of gab—but she was no slouch.

His gaze dropped to her breasts, and she automatically crossed her arms. Maybe he just liked Iron Maiden? The T-shirt was old and fitted. She glanced down and her face heated when she realized crossing her arms caused the fabric to cling and show off the outline of her barbell.

“God, that’s so sexy. Damn.” He moved closer. “What’s your rate, sweetheart?”

Her ease vanished, and her empty stomach churned. “It depends on what you want done,” she answered cautiously.

“I want a whole night. Maybe a regular thing? I get the feeling one night with you wouldn’t be enough. Deacon West keeps coming back for more, so you must be worth whatever your fee is.”

He thinks I’m a prostitute? He touched her hip, and she shoved him back. “You are way the hell out of line.”

She tried to move past him, but he grabbed her arm, crowded her. “Don’t be like that. You want to be wined and dined first? I can do that. My money’s just as good as West’s.”

Before she had the chance to knee him in the balls, he was being wrenched back, arms windmilling to prevent himself from falling on his ass. Deacon, looking like he was capable of murder, wrapped his hand around the other guy’s throat and shoved him against the nearest wall. “You touch her again, and I will kill you. Do you understand?”

The guy screwed his face up. “You want the whore all to yourself, you can have her. Plenty more where she came from.”

Murder flashed in Deacon’s eyes.

“Deacon. No!”

He completely ignored her, pulled back, and slammed his fist into the creep’s face. The crunch of bone shattering made her wince, as did the blood that splattered across Deacon’s white shirt.

The guy howled and covered his nose. “Jesus Christ! You broke my nose!”

Deacon ignored him and turned to her. “Elevator, now.”

When she stood unmoving, still in shock, he grabbed her arm and dragged her along with him, pulling her in before the door closed. “What the hell, Deacon?”